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Trusting in the Other Side of Obedience

 

“Behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sons.” When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.” – Mat. 1:17- 24

Today the Church celebrates the Solemnity  of Saint Joseph. Little is known about Joseph, and no words of his are recorded in Scripture. We do know that he was a man of love, faith and obedience. In his human frailty, he must also have experienced fear and doubt.

In fact, scripture tells us that when Joseph discovered that the Blessed Virgin Mary was pregnant he “decided to divorce her quietly” until an angel appeared to him. How was Joseph able to change his mind and be obedient to God’s call, rather than believing his dream was perhaps the result of rotten goat’s milk before bed?  Looking at Scripture again, Joseph is described as “a righteous man.” Righteous, selfless and obedient, Joseph stepped out in faith, supporting Mary and God’s plan for their family.

“Someone’s faith stands on the other side of our obedience,” a friend commented after Bible study years ago. His comment remains with me, bubbling to the surface when questions arise in my faith or trials last longer than it seems I can possibly bear.

Marriage is a great platform for faith and obedience. In this Sacrament, husband and wife vow to remain faithful “for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.” The grace of this Sacrament compels spouses to stay true to these promises “until death do us part.” So when tough times come – and they will  – I can stand firm, trusting in God’s plan of salvation and knowing that my obedience is planting seeds not only for today, but for our family in generations yet to come, just as generations past impact us today.

God led Joseph and Mary down one unexpected path after another. They knew their son was special, yet instead of being prideful, Joseph and Mary showed great humility in following Jewish law. They took their son to the temple in Jerusalem, just as all Jewish parents at that time did with their firstborn sons.

At this presentation, Simeon’s faith was rewarded specifically because of Joseph and Mary’s obedience. “Every male that opens the womb shall be consecrated to the Lord.” Simeon, being a righteous man, had trust in the Lord’s promise that he should not see death before he had seen the Messiah of the Lord.” Simeon’s faith was standing on the other side of Joseph and Mary’s obedience.

On this celebration of Saint Joseph and throughout the Lenten season, let us ask our Lord to strengthen our faith and help us to grow in love, which bears the fruit of obedience. Staying close to Jesus on our journey, we will hear the voice of the Holy Spirit telling us when to act and which way to go. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, pray for us.

 

Amy Oatley is a wife, mother, and Secular Franciscan (OFS), passionate about social justice, advocating for the dignity of every human life. She encounters Christ through Prison and Jail Ministry in the Diocese of Grand Rapids and as a Sidewalk Advocate for Life. A journalist for the past thirty years, she is currently a freelance writer for FAITH Magazine and works at St. Thomas the Apostle Parish. Her home parish is Our Lady of Consolation in Rockford, Michigan.

sixth Christmas
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On the Sixth Day of Christmas

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, six geese a’laying

The number six is meant to represent the six days of Creation.

Today, we turn our prayerful attention to the Holy Family. It would be easy to dismiss the Holy Family as some sort of fairty-tale creation, a house where no one ever gets angry or raises a voice, where chores are always cheerfully done and there is no such thing as illness or suffering.

That would be wrong.

True, the Holy Family consisted of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, a woman who never sinned and a husband and father who we know to be good and just. But this family knew tremendous hardship. Their son was born in a stable – not exactly what first-time parents would consider a great birth experience. They had to leave all they had behind as they made their way to Egypt in order to keep their Son safe. Imagine, if you will, having to leave NOW with your family and only the clothes on your back for safety. You end up in a foreign land, new parents with no support system. You have no idea how long you’ll have to stay. At some point, the Holy Family lost the man who anchored them in place, regardless of where they were; Joseph died. He was not there to support his foster Son and his wife during the most gut-wrenching time in their lives.

The Holy Family had to make a living, prepare food, clean, get water. They got sick. They prayed together. Deacon Michael Bickerstaff:

The Holy Family is a family that knew hardship yet remained steadfast in God. It is for our families to imitate their model if we are to know joy and peace in the midst of this life; if we are to attain holiness and salvation for ourselves and for our children…

For thirty of His thirty-three years, Jesus lived a humble and obedient life within His family before embarking on His public ministry. In this way, He allowed Himself to be taught experientially by His mother and foster-father, in their words and deeds, in acts both extraordinary and ordinary.

They taught Him the traditional prayers and piety, passed on the cherished customs of His people, showed him the greatest example of love and affection within the family, gave to Him a skill and trade to help support the family.

In His public ministry, Jesus taught with words and examples taken from his early and hidden family life. In the lessons He taught, we discover the great love and courage that St. Joseph must have exhibited for Jesus and His Blessed Mother; the tender love and care that must have been shared between mother and son.

Do not think of the Holy Family as the Never Had Any Problems Family. That family doesn’t exist. The Holy Family, in “acts both extraordinary and ordinary,” are tremendous examples of how a family should be: loving, supportive, prayerful. All families should strive for this holy life. Holy Mary, prayer for us. Good St. Joseph, pray for us. Jesus, Son of God and Son of Man, have mercy on us. 

[From the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops: “The liturgical season of Christmas begins with the vigil Masses on Christmas Eve and concludes on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. During this season, we celebrate the birth of Christ into our world and into our hearts, and reflect on the gift of salvation that is born with him…including the fact that he was born to die for us.” There are, however, the traditional “12 Days of Christmas,” captured in the song of the same title. Some claim the song was meant as catechism of a sort, written and sung for nearly 300 years of British persecution of Catholics. We will be using both the song and the Church’s liturgical calendar to celebrate the Christmas season. We hope you enjoy.]

first day
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On The First Day Of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree. 

The “true love” is meant to convey that God – the True Love – came down from Heaven on Christmas Day.

It was an ordinary day. Babies were born, people died. Purchases were made, bartering took place. Families loved and fought, prayers were said. People ate and slept. It was an ordinary day.

Tucked away in a shelter for animals, two young Jewish parents, far from home, were watching their newborn. The baby suckled and sighed. His tiny fists stretched out as he snuggled close to the father. The mother rested. All the things a young family does on an ordinary day.

Except … it wasn’t. It was the most extraordinary day ever. It didn’t look different; there were no fireworks or protests or people yelling. No one proclaimed anything from the rooftops. But still, it was the most extraordinary day ever.

There is really no way to explain it. All we can do is muster up metaphors and even then, nothing comes close. Imagine that tonight, at the dinner table, your spouse says, “I got you a gift,” handing you a box. You open it, and the entire galaxy is contained in that box. That day was sort of like that … but not quite.

No, that most extraordinary day was the day that the God of all creation, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of Moses and the Jews, Almighty and Ever-living God, came down from Heaven. He came not in a blaze of fire or in a thundering cloud.

He came as a baby.

On this most extraordinary day, we know that our God is a God of true love. He has revealed His love, in part, by becoming one of us, truly, in the flesh. And the first witnesses were two young Jewish parents, far from home, in a shelter meant for animals.

This most extraordinary day.

[From the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops: “The liturgical season of Christmas begins with the vigil Masses on Christmas Eve and concludes on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. During this season, we celebrate the birth of Christ into our world and into our hearts, and reflect on the gift of salvation that is born with him…including the fact that he was born to die for us.” There are, however, the traditional “12 Days of Christmas,” captured in the song of the same title. Some claim the song was meant as catechism of a sort, written and sung for nearly 300 years of British persecution of Catholics. We will be using both the song and the Church’s liturgical calendar to celebrate the Christmas season. We hope you enjoy.]

st. joseph
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Advent: Kissing St. Joseph

TODAY’S ADVENT REFLECTION FOR THE 3RD WEDNESDAY OF ADVENT, 2016

When my mother’s cousin, Mary, was twelve, she and her friend went to church every day after school during Lent to pray for the souls in Purgatory in front of the statue of St. Joseph. One day, in an excess of zeal, Mary decided that a kiss would encourage the saint to intercede more effectively. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach his lips, but she kissed him. As she let go, however, St. Joseph began to lean precipitously toward her. She called to her friend, but the church was empty. In a panic, she gently lowered the statue to the ground, and running to the rectory next door, rang for the housekeeper. “St. Joseph is on the ground,” she reported earnestly, ”and he needs help.”

Nearly every Catholic church in the world has an image of Joseph, son of Heli, somewhere near the altar. The beloved saint, a sincere and prudent man, who was the protector of Christ and Mary, belongs there because he was chosen by God to be the foster-father of Jesus, and because he is a model of genuine authority.

We know that Joseph exerted familial influence in ways that discharged legal, personal, and religious responsibility: he accompanied Mary to Bethlehem to register for the census as required by law (Matt. 2:4); he oversaw Christ’s birth (Luke 2:7), named him (Matt. 1:25), took Mary and the child to Egypt (Matt. 2:14), and brought them back to Israel (Matt. 2:21); he presented the child to be circumsized (Luke 2:22), and, when Jesus was twelve, brought his family on pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the religious feast of Passover (Luke 2:42). His fatherly care was shared by Mary, who said, “Your father and I have been looking for you,” and recognized by Jesus, who “lived under their authority” (Luke 2: 48-51). And it is certain, we are reminded by Pope John Paul II in Redemptoris Custos, that his professional direction as a master carpenter was honored in the house at Nazareth.

Joseph’s authority finds its prototype in the Trinity. God the Father holds authority for the three persons. We know this because Jesus refers to the Father on several occasions where we see him submitting his will: discovered in the temple, he says, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49); in the garden of Gethsemane, he prays, “‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Nevertheless, let it be as you, not I, would have it’” (Matt. 26:39); and appearing to the disciples in Galilee, he explains, “All authority in heaven and on the earth has been given to me” (Matt. 28:18). The authority that the Father shared with the Son is mirrored in the Holy Family and in the Church.

Like Joseph, head of the family, Peter was the head of the Church, an analogic reality recognized by Dante in Paradiso XXXII, when he placed al maggior padre di famiglia (136), “the greatest father of a family,” contr’ a Pietro (133), “opposite Peter.” Neither Joseph nor Peter ever affected grinding dominance, because authentic authority is not oppressive: it is open, loving, creative, and sacrificial, and like cousin Mary, knows that it “needs help.”

[Throughout the 2016 Advent season, we will be bringing you posts from a variety of writers. Our hope is that each of these will be a meaningful way for you to slow down, pray well, and prepare for the coming of our Lord. Today’s blogger is Sister Lucia Treanor, FSE, a Franciscan Sister of the Eucharist. She teaches writing at Grand Valley State University. She is the author of Symmetrical Patterning in Franciscan Writing of the Late Middle Ages (Mellen Press, 2011) and the editor of Broken Mary: A Journey of Hope (Beacon Press, 2016).]

domestic church
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Family As ‘Domestic Church’

From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

2685 The Christian family is the first place of education in prayer. Based on the sacrament of marriage, the family is the “domestic church” where God’s children learn to pray “as the Church” and to persevere in prayer. For young children in particular, daily family prayer is the first witness of the Church’s living memory as awakened patiently by the Holy Spirit.

Our families are meant to be “little churches:” places where we practice our faith earnestly, we pray together, we make meals a priority, we forgive and celebrate together.

Is it just me, or are some of us saying, “Yeah, right…”?

We know the reality of family life: tussles to get everyone out the door in the morning. A shouting match with a teenager. Deep hurts with siblings that go back decades. Exhaustion from sleepless nights due to a baby’s needs or a toddler’s nightmares. Is this a “little church?”

Yes, it is. With all its troubles, heartaches, mistakes and mishaps, our family is our little church, our domestic church. It helps to remember that – as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta was fond of saying – God does not call us to be successful: He calls us to be faithful. We are not called to be perfect parents or perfect kids, perfect siblings or spouses. We are called to try to live out our faith in the mundane parts of our life (Time to clean the bathrooms!), in the harsh reality of our life (We need to put Dad in a nursing home), in the daily conflicts and crises (Our teen is lying to us; what do we do?)

It helps to think about the Holy Family. Maybe that seems a bit, well, ridiculous: after all, Jesus is perfect, Mary had no original sin to deal with, and Joseph was a saint! How is my family supposed to be like that?

Hear me out. Even though the Holy Family was holy, that doesn’t mean they didn’t face challenges. Imagine the gossip when it was discovered that Mary was pregnant before she and Joseph wed. That was literally a sin punishable by death; Mary could have been stoned. Surely there was talk – and not all of it nice.

Joseph and Mary, newlyweds and new parents, had to flee to Egypt in order to save their Son. They had to leave their family and home. Imagine: having a new baby and not having your mother or aunt or sister to help. Imagine leaving your business behind as the father, and having to provide for your young family in a foreign country.

At some point, Joseph died. Mary lost her spouse, Jesus his foster father. It may have happened when they were a younger family, or when Jesus was an adult. Either way, we know this pain.

Some of us know what it’s like to watch a child go through something terrible: a horrible illness, an addiction, an unplanned pregnancy. Imagine Mary’s pain watching her Son be tortured and killed.

Yet through all of this, the Holy Family was holy. They were faithful. They kept their promise to God: to serve Him, to love Him, to share His promise with others. When we were baptized, we made this same promise (or our parents made it for us.) We make it every time we pray the Creed: “I believe!” We make that promise when we faithfully attend Mass.

We also get the grace necessary to keep this promise. God doesn’t give us the task of being a domestic church, and not give us any help. No, we have grace: God’s very life in us. We can’t be holy on our own; we need God’s grace. But once we have that gift of grace, and we use it, we run with it: we can be holy! We can transform our lives, our families, our homes. That doesn’t mean we will be perfect, or even successful, but we will be faithful.

Make an opportunity to talk, as a family, about being a domestic church. What can you do better? What are you doing well? Where do you see God’s grace in your home? And then pray together for your domestic church.